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People and places, he never saw them go,
memories that made him who he was.
One by one they left his life as he lost himself.

Defined by doing and by others
still loving, but no longer there to him
in secrecy his stultifying emptiness grew.

Gradually, through no fault or fear of his own
the space and silence engulfed him.
The past and then the present rarely visited.

He shrank without sorrow into himself until
there was no pain or point or person.
No loss, nor lingering sense of losing touch.

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